The noble Princess Seraphina found her regal frame seized by a most unnatural blight. Though grand feasts adorned her table, her flesh failed to draw succor from them, her spirit waning with each passing hour. A singular, scandalous remedy presented itself as her only tether to life: the profound ingestion of a certain primal fluid, absorbed not through the common pathways, but through a passage of deeper intimacy. Otherwise, slow death awaited. The chilling lack of distinction in the curse's decree—it sought merely the vital seed, regardless of its progenitor—compounded her grim predicament.
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